There are days when I am in love with eyes
the world in looks
and the passing by glances
of a newfound friendship, and fondness revived

And then there are days
like this one en which,
there is not enough dirt on the surface of the entire earth
to cover all of you

to hold your image (in my mind)
is more difficult than I could know,
or you, could even begin to search,
[let alone find]

to hold a hand (once not your own)
no self can lend a moments peace
when searching for a hold in stone
[a fragile piece]

a gift is not always to keep

mhmm...

I don't know why...

The moon in its endearing way
Encircles us on breathless string along
Or why the tides cry ill each night
Only to be in court for the hearing at dawn

The rushing lawns of browning green
Or why they need a trim to fall
Or the crisping leaves of sweeping scenes
And why they whisper around me at all

The rock and stone the smoothing ore
Beneath waters rushing to and fro
No crackling snow left sparks alive
No mountain stream running by itself alone

But out of all of these things which I do not know
Of what and why and whethering seems
Like the lines of growing seeds to sow
Why it's your eyes behind that I wish to know

I don't.